


See Attached Bibliography

by JJAster



Series: Henry Stole My Pen [4]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Comfort, Crack, David is done, Domestic af, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I’ll write till my pen runs out of ink, Light Angst, M/M, One-Shots, Post-Canon, Shorts, Snippets, don’t take me seriously, happy endings, idk why I added it as a tag, like barely any
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJAster/pseuds/JJAster
Summary: there’s just something about a happily ever after that demands to be written
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran/Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Martha Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor/Philip Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Zahra Bankston/Shaan Srivastava
Series: Henry Stole My Pen [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837291
Comments: 36
Kudos: 118
Collections: Henry Stole My Pen





	1. Making Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> birthdays, exams, treason and chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me.
> 
> —RWRB Casey M, Quote
> 
> ^ for anyone wondering, that’s why this fanfic is called what it’s called
> 
> There are 4 short stories per chapter  
> And I’m thinking of writing more than one chapter ;p
> 
> Edit by future JJ: the claim of four per chapter is mostly bullshit, but I try
> 
> ENJOY!

SHORT STORY COLLECTION I

——01—— 

27th March 5:14 a.m.

I feel so full. 

I haven’t woken up yet, but I know what day it is. 

My nose brushes against his and I slowly open my eyes to see his sleeping ones. His dark eyelashes brushed against my flushed cheeks. Ink-stained fingers resting at the small of my back. 

The corners of my eyes crinkle, as my lips curve up in a beam of light. 

It’s his birthday

Tilting my chin up, I brush his bed head curls aside, to place a chaste kiss on his temple. He hums drowsy approval, cuddling into the crook of my neck, before drifting back to sleep. 

“Happy Birthday, baby.” I said, my voice raspy in a way I knew drove him mad. 

“Since when do you call me baby?” He snorted.

“I wasn’t talking to you, love.”

Henry mumbled, aiming a lazy morning smile at an old picture of Alex. A little chubby toddler, with little stubby legs, more curls than his teeny body could carry, birthday cake smeared across his cheeks…and that same smile that Henry’s sure got the little brat whatever toy he wanted…just one photograph from many of their family pictures, decorating the walls in their own little home in Brooklyn.

——02—— 

During hell week, while Alex buried his head in a pile of law textbooks, he had picked up the dreadful habit of not taking a proper shower for days on end. 

It was as disgusting as it sounds. Surprisingly he didn’t smell, but he looked like death, apparently felt like it too. 

For the first few days, the best Henry could think of doing was refilling his boyfriend’s cup of coffee and spraying dry shampoo in his messy hair. 

Alex groaned loudly and deeply whenever Henry flashed him an encouraging smile, but he appreciated it more than anyone could know. 

He wore backward caps and bandanas to keep the hair out of his face, flipping Henry off when he laughed, claiming, “You look outrageously American.”

As all bad things do, this first ever exam season met its match with this charismatic first son, coming to a tiring and climactic end. 

The two don’t know this yet, but by the finish line of his next finals, Alex would be surrounded by Law School friends in a college bar, toasting to a test well written. 

Henry would join the fun after a fulfilling day at the shelter, seated modestly on a bar stool, grinning at Alex as he argued and laughed in the company of his peers. 

Basking in how surreal it was to live outside the halo of a crown. 

But for now, it was just the two of them—and a dog sleeping soundly somewhere in the den—drinking to the good, the bad and the chaotically normal life they were attempting to live. 

Raise a glass to the first of many.

——03——

For a person who famously detested the bitter drink with every fibre of his being, seemingly since the beginning of time, Henry sure did drink coffee a lot now.

He was in England, queuing at a quaint little café that reminded him a little too much of Paris. 

When he and Pez reached the counter, his best friend’s eyes just about bugged out of their sockets when Henry ordered a flat white. 

“Since when do you—who’s tea am I going to dip my biscuits in now? What has America done to ya, Hazza? This is treason I say! TREASON!”

Henry was momentarily confused by his order as well, but then he remembered home. 

All the mornings where he sipped and made sure Alex’s coffee wasn’t too hot before handing it over. 

Like always, every little thing made sense when he thought of him.

So Henry shrugged knowingly with a fond smile.

“I miss Alex.”

——04——

“Did you add another key to the chain?” Henry asked, finally spotting the new addition for the first time. 

In response Alex scratched his head sheepishly, while Henry toyed with the ring around Alex’s neck, “Yeah, an extra copy of the one to the Brownstone. The symmetry pleases me I suppose. A key, the signet ring and then another key.” 

He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, not knowing what to do with them, as Henry stared at him with stars in his eyes. 

“Um a bit unfair, don’t you think? Me selfishly dominating two-thirds?” Henry asked, blushing to himself. 

Alex grinned at this, “Nah…that part actually sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

Henry laughed, “I feel silly now. I’m not wearing anything of yours.”

“Such lies, you’re wearing my jammies.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Ah don’t stress. If it means that much to you, I’ll get a ring on that finger with my name on it, in no time.”

Alex winked. 

Henry wasn’t laughing anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment for the love of croissants!


	2. Off The Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interviews, drugs, baths and beaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I slept for twenty straight hours, then woke up in a haze and wrote these four snippets. 
> 
> I’m mostly concerned for my comatose brain, but also mildly proud for pumping these four out of it.
> 
> Enjoy :)

SHORT STORY COLLECTION II

——01——

“Everyone’s a voyeur,” Alex answers when interviewed about the decision to keep his relationship with Henry private and the couple’s lack of PDA, “and contrary to popular belief, I’m no exhibitionist.”

He was very proud of this answer, he’d worked on it with his publicist for longer than he’d care to admit, but evidently, the journalist sees through his well crafted bullshit. 

She quirks one shapely eyebrow at him and Alex breaks, “Okay, off the record, if we have another sex scandal, we’ll definitely be banished from both our countries and exiled indefinitely to Timbuktu. Happy?”

“Very,” She laughs, scribbling something in her notes, “But take it easy kid, we’ll use your first answer. Though less funny, it's quotable. I’ll make it work.” 

——02——

Alex was confused. 

He’d been getting odd looks all day. At first, he figured it was because of who he was, but boy was he wrong.

The last straw was when a concerned professor pulled him aside and handed him an ‘Addiction Awareness’ pamphlet. 

Dazed, he walked back to the Brownstone, desperate for an explanation. When he told Henry about his day, he was on the receiving end of a very unprincely snort.

Still chuckling, his boyfriend dragged him to their bedroom, and before Alex could say he wasn’t in the mood, he found himself standing in front of their dressing room mirror. 

In that moment, he saw what the rest of the world did. A young man with uncombed hair, an old shirt buttoned wrong, tired bags under his bloodshot eyes, dried up flour on his face and some raspberry jam running down the corners of his lips. 

Alex had taken his usual shtick of ‘not taking care of himself’ to a whole other level. 

Now having solved the mystery of why his professor thought he was on crack cocaine, Alex now wondered how Henry could possibly find him attractive. 

As if reading his mind, Henry brushed the flour off his cheeks and leant down to kiss him.

“How about you set your assignments aside for a day—they aren’t due for another month anyways. Go take a long shower and an even longer nap. Oh and I’ll handle making pancakes for breakfast from now on.”

——03——

If you’re still a tad concerned from the last story, don’t worry. Alex has been effectively restored to his former glory.

That said, Henry isn’t looking too good. 

It’s currently a dreaded time of the month in the Claremont-Diaz–Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor household. 

They had been putting it off for days, ignoring the rancid smell and buzzing flies. But they couldn’t live like that anymore. It was time. 

David needed a bath.

You must know, for a small dog, David sure could put up a hell of a fight. The couple couldn’t figure out whether it was the water, the scented soap or the non-consensual manhandling that put their dog in a rotten mood. All they know is that their little beagle hated bath time and as a result, so did they. 

It was usually a group effort. Henry made sure David stayed still, scratching his ears and whispering words of encouragement. While Alex was the one who did all the busy work. The scrubbing, the shampooing, the washing…the butt wiping. 

Basically if the whole experience was an amusement park ride, Alex was in the splash zone. 

But Alex wasn’t here today. Zahra had whisked him away, muttering something about a last-minute conference and correspondent’s dinner.

Thus, an ordeal that usually took them twenty minutes, took Henry three hours. 

When it all began, David had looked betrayed, Henry was supposed to be the nice one.

By the end of it, both the dog and the owner needed a break, from life and from each other. 

Sweaty and soaked in smelly bath water, Henry collapsed on the living room couch. 

David followed in suit, curling into a sleepy ball of fur near the front door. 

Evening then came and so did Alex, dressed in his sharpest suit, finally back home after a gruelling day of meetings, press and a shit ton of international ass-kissing. 

He was welcomed by the sight of a remarkably clean dog (a dog who’d never looked happier to see his return) a wet boyfriend and an even wetter couch.

Alex had some questions, most of them began with asking what the fuck…

All Henry said in explanation was, “Never again.”

——04——

Life is unfair, never let anyone tell you otherwise. 

Henry, at a moment’s notice, could sprout a hundred examples of why it is so: racism, unequal distribution of wealth, intolerance, poverty, misogyny, hate crimes, homophobia and a dozen more. 

With that in mind, a prime example of life being unfair is Alex Claremont-Diaz......more specifically, Alex Claremont-Diaz in the beach sun. 

Playing volleyball with June and Nora. Flaunting shamelessly glowing complexion, wind-blown hair, sand-dusted skin, toothy grins and all while fucking shirtless.

On the other hand was Henry, covered head to toe in sunscreen and still as red as a tomato. 

The combination of the burning hot sun and his even hotter boyfriend was proving to be lethal. And when Alex winked in Henry’s direction after spiking the ball too high for either of the girls to bump back, it was officially too much. 

Henry wanted to go home. He needed to either take a cold shower or ravish his boyfriend, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t be the buzz kill. 

Because everyone else was having a blast. Sipping piña coladas from paper cups and eating triple stacked ice-cream served in freshly made waffle cones. Even David was at the top of the world, chasing chewed up old frisbees and swimming in the ocean. 

So Henry had two options: 

(A) Sit on his ass and whine all the way home

OR

(B) Get up and join the fun

Loud cheers were heard as he walked up to the group. And Alex quite literally jumped on him, kissing him senseless while the girls made nauseous faces behind their backs. 

A new game started. Henry let Alex teach him how to throw a ball, up close, even though both of them knew Henry was a reigning champ. As a team, they won 7-8, defeating the girls in what was a surprisingly close game. 

Drowning out June’s demands for a rematch, the couple ran away laughing. 

After spending the rest of the evening walking hand in hand across the coast in their matching flip-flops, they watched the sunset and drove home. 

Alex posted a picture of the two to Instagram, standing in soft focus against the striking view of the horizon, paired with a sappy caption that Nora responded to with an eggplant emoji. 

The next morning, Henry would wake up to searing pain from his extremely sunburnt skin and Alex would tend to it with ointment and comforting kisses. But for now they slept soundly in their warm bed, somehow still smelling a little like salt air and strawberry malt, even after their very long shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write four snippets per chapter because four is my lucky number. 
> 
> Coming up with with four separate short story ideas is kinda hard, who would’ve thunk it?
> 
> Can I submit an application to change my lucky number to one or something?
> 
> comment for the love of cheese


	3. Snore Me To Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is ailing & Henry is homicidal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be so much shorter than it is. It was also meant to be accompanied by three other shorts. 
> 
> But apparently, there are no hard and fast rules dictating what I can and can’t post in this series.
> 
> So here’s a single story bonus chapter where Henry loses his mind. Don’t take it seriously.

BONUS SHORT STORY

Before their miserable asses found each other, Alex and Henry were perpetual insomniacs. 

Wide awake in different time zones, their younger selves would waste the night away, only to then shamelessly pretend they were well rested at breakfast the next morning, not really fooling anybody. 

Together at last, they still weren’t perfect at sleeping through the night, both of them always waking up in random jolts, as if suddenly remembering the weight of the whole world rested on their shoulders—which, in their defence, wasn’t entirely false. 

They did try their damn darndest though. Limiting both their late night coitus and late night caffeine intake. Also, rare as the occasion was, they routinely shared high fives and explosive fist bumps whenever they crossed the famous eight hours of sleep mark. 

So you can imagine how irked Henry was when his boyfriend caught a cold and became insufferable overnight. 

Sniffing and sneezing all the livelong day and then snoring all fucking night. He’d only recently gotten used to sleep and now it had once again been ripped away from him. 

Call him cruel all you want, but it was hell. Each night Henry resisted the urge to smother an innocently sleeping Alex, each passing snore and cough taking sleep farther and farther away from reach, making Henry increasingly homicidal. 

Henry was tender at first, of course he was, diligently taking care of his red-nosed lover with hot soup and sinus-clearing steams. But inevitably, the lack of sleep caught up to him. Any sympathy he held for the sick was washed away and replaced with the urge to pack his bags, break up with the love of his life and leave for England…just to get one night to himself and his bed. 

He could hear himself, he knew how crazy he sounded. He’d read papers on how no sleep could drive the most level headed man positively insane. 

It had been four days…four days where he was running on zero hours of sleep. 

It was just a cold, it would pass in another two days, but Henry didn’t think he would make it out alive by the end of it. 

Which is why Henry was shocked out of his mind when he woke up at three in the morning, on the fourth night, feeling much better. 

Waking up meant that he had gone to sleep in the first place…but how? 

Had his ears finally gotten used to the sound, like some sort of demonic white noise machine that lulled him into sleep? Had God listened to his countless prayers and muted Alex with his master remote? Had he passed out, died and gone to heaven?

Then all at once, Henry realised he was alone in their bed. He was cuddling David, not his boyfriend. 

Where the fuck was his boyfriend then?

That’s when he heard it, that familiar sound, but it was softer now. It was farther away. 

Henry tumbled out of bed and wandered into the living room, only to find his red-nosed reindeer curled awkwardly on the couch, surrounded by a flurry of used tissues and medications. 

A few hours ago, sleep-deprived Henry, the one who was on the verge of a psychotic break, would’ve moonwalked back into their bedroom and fallen right back to sleep. But this wasn’t that Henry. This was the normal Henry, back to his old self after a quick nap, a nap he was able to take because Alex had exiled himself to the couch so that his prince didn’t go stir-crazy.

Henry reverently knelt down next to Alex and threaded his fingers through clammy curls. “Love, come back to bed,” he said, tugging Alex up by the sleeve of his jumper. 

All he got in response were a few disoriented hums and groans before Alex peeked his eyes open, “No, you go back to bed,” he whispered stubbornly, “The couch isn't that bad anyways—definitely comfier than the clothespin I tried to plug my nose with earlier.”

Henry's whole body shriveled up with guilt. He’d never actually gotten to the point where he lashed out at Alex, but apparently he looked plagued enough for Alex to figure out the problem. 

No fucking way, that wasn’t going to work. His sick boyfriend was not a problem. 

“Come back to bed,” Henry repeated, more force behind every word. 

Alex laughed, “Hen, it’s okay. The cold will wear off in a couple of days. It’s already bugging the hell out of me, we don’t need to let it get to you too. 

“No Alex. Come back to bed, I need you there.” Alex looked unconvinced, so Henry continued, “Seriously love, I woke up with my entire body clinging to a very violated looking dog…and anyways…for better or for worse, right?”

“You’re making it sound like we’re married.” Alex mumbled, regaining some of the colour that was lost from his cheeks, as Henry hooked his arms under Alex’s legs, lifting him up bridal style.

“Oh just shut up and let me carry you over the threshold.”

—SPONGEBOB NARRATOR: Three Days Later—

Henry slept peacefully, occasionally doubling over in a fit of coughs, only to fall back into his deep slumber, accented by loud snores that were heard throughout Brooklyn. 

Meanwhile, a fully recovered Alex stayed awake, glaring daggers at his ill boyfriend, silently plotting how to get away with murder. 

(He was thinking of going with Autoerotic Asphyxiation, but it would just be so delightfully ironic if he went with Toilet Heart Attack)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you see why I told you guys not take this one seriously. It’s like I’m predisposed to write cracks and cracks only. 
> 
> I’m afflicted with an incurable case of being a dumbass, forgive me. 
> 
> I’ll probably revert back to my format of four snippets per chapter in the next one…no promises though. 
> 
> ————
> 
> [Extract from RWRB]
> 
> “I’m really going to have you offed,” Henry tells him. “You’ll never see it coming. Our assassins are trained in discretion. They will come in the night, and it will look like a humiliating accident.” 
> 
> “Autoerotic asphyxiation?” 
> 
> “Toilet heart attack.” 
> 
> “Jesus.” 
> 
> “You’ve been warned.”
> 
> “I thought you’d kill me in a more personal way. Silk pillow over my face, slow and gentle suffocation. Just you and me. Sensual.” 
> 
> “Ha. Well.” Henry coughs.
> 
> ————
> 
> comment for the love of crackers


	4. Bloody Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> because fame just sounds like a fuck ton of people not minding their own business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just one snippet piggy again…the other three snippet piggies flew away in the wind because the big bad wolf huffed and puffed and blew the author’s creativity down. 
> 
> Still…enjoy! :)

Sending e-mails was a sacred practice to Alex. 

Well sure, now his electronic correspondence was mostly limited to mailing assignments to tireless professors and lending notes to desperate classmates. But yet, after all this time, whenever the sound of a turkey’s gobble chimed from his device, notifying him that a new mail was waiting patiently for his perusal in his inbox, Alex couldn’t help but quickly indulge in one obnoxiously goofy smile and an appreciative glance in the direction of his sleeping boyfriend, before he rolled his chair over to his desk and returned his attention to the less magical things in life. 

Less magical indeed…

As his eyes passed over the sender’s ID, he instantly felt a building tension, tightly wound in his gut. Alex didn’t recognize the name, nor the gruff looking man in the profile picture, but he recognized everything else. The mail filled with the sour but familiar words he had heard in passing throughout his entire life—with a couple new slurs as of recently, after he oh so willingly had to announce his queerness to the overeager masses. 

It’s not like he hadn’t gotten any before, over the course of his mother’s first term in presidency, Alex had collected death threats aplenty. Most of them followed the same pattern, each one more hateful than the last. But this was different, this one has crossed a line miles beyond the others. 

He didn’t even bother fussing over how this fucker got a hold of his ID, Alex was trained to be tightlipped about details like that, but he simply figured that some attention seeking loser in university administration might’ve been a tad looser. 

Alex grinded his teeth mercilessly, jaw tensed and eyes glaring menacingly at the blameless screen as he skimmed through the text, each threatening word adding to his fury. 

“What climbed up your arse this early in the morning?” a groggy voice asked and Alex startled, eyes softening as he spun his chair to face Henry. 

“Nothing, but I guess I shouldn’t ask you the same after last night.” Alex managed to quip with what hopefully looked like a smug smile, but of course Henry saw right through his well crafted bullshit. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

Sagging against his chair, Alex opened his mouth to speak but found that nothing came out. Henry’s glazed eyes observed him, silently pleading for a sign. The prince’s eyebrows further scrunched in worry as his gaze darted to Alex’s hands. With any other, they would only see his clenched fists as a sign of fury, but Henry saw fingers tightly bound, trembling with fear. 

“Love, w-what’s wrong?”

Alex simply sighed and rolled his chair away from the desk, idly gesturing to the screen, giving Henry permission to see for himself. 

With every word Henry read, he understood his boyfriend’s state of distress more and more, the sheer amount of times this horrid man bragged about owning a gun in dreadfully poor English did nothing to ease this worry, but Henry could stop himself as a few hearty chuckles escaped his lips. 

To say the least, Alex was puzzled. 

“How are you laughing?!”

“Alex, you have to relax. I know this is concerning but aside from informing Shaan and Cash, there’s not much else we can do but laugh. And I thought you’d be mighty well used to aggressive idiots by now…this is America after all.” Henry retorted with a laugh, zipping his lips shut after Alex glares some more.

“Of course I’m used to them, I lived in the White House. The entire damn place was almost put in lockdown once because Bug walked in with a ketchup stain on her chest that looked like a snipers target. But…this is different.” Alex said, lightly petting David, the dog too showing his concern for the more aggravated than usual first son. 

“How is this different?” Henry snorted derisively, “I’d actually argue that this is more ridiculous. The man called himself a proud citizen of ‘Murica, he’s a nut.”

“It’s different because he threatened you Henry!” Alex huffed and Henry nodded after a pregnant pause, finally seeing the whole picture.

Without explanation, he pulled Alex out of his chair and sat himself down. Hurriedly browsing for something on the laptop, Henry looked like a mad man on a mission, and when he finally found it, he harrumphed as if to say “tada!”

“Is this—“ Alex trailed off, gaping at the screen as he saw an all too familiar email address.

hwales@kensingtonemail.com

“I never did delete it, I know Zahra made you terminate yours, but I just couldn’t stand the thought of it. After our letters—or I suppose they’re called the waterloo letters now…hmph…whatever—went public, there was an onslaught of emails. Some from reporters, some from supporters, some from trolls…some from passive assholes…and some from aggressive assholes.”

“Hen, why didn’t you tell me?” Alex asked, his voice catching as he read through a particularly sweet mail written by a closeted girl in Jersey. 

“Because not all of them were nice. Some were downright terrifying. Honestly, a lot of it was just harsher rephrasing of stuff my grandmother had already told me a million times before. I was numb to them…the threats I mean, but then I read one about you. God love, I swear my blood ran cold, I was paranoid for days. Whenever I’d see you leave for college, I’d picture you shot dead, whenever I’d go to sleep it was more of the same. I wanted to lock you up in a vault and have David bite if the heads of any trespassers…it was maddening.”

Alex grumbled, he wanted to ask why Henry hadn’t told him anything again, but instead he climbed into his boyfriend’s lap and cradled his head against the blond’s shoulder. “When did you move past it?”

“I didn’t.” Henry answered, “I’m still fucking terrified…but I was terrified before I ever even met you. I don’t think I’ve ever not been scared of something—whether it was losing myself to the crown then, or losing you to a some homophobic…racist…monster on a killing spree now.

Life can be utterly shite sometimes and these are one of the shittier sections.”

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Just life sucks…so fuck it?”

“Uh huh, fuck it.”

“No magic solution?”

“No magic solution…but…I could give you a hug. It can’t fix anything, but I’ve been told I’m pretty comfy.”

Alex rolled his eyes to the base of his skull at that outrageous claim. “It can fix everything.” he corrected fondly, with a little brave heart smile, as he snuggled further, his smile suddenly erupting into a laugh as he recalled the email in a new light. 

“How are you laughing?” Henry asked, a quick spark of humor flashing in his eyes.

“Okay okay I digress, it was pretty funny when he basically transformed into a rip-off of some cheesy cartoon villain spouting cheap dialogue like, ‘Be warned HRH Dick…I’m coming for ya head.’ Like…what the actual fuck?!” Alex mustered before dissolving into a fit of giggles, roping Henry down with him. 

They laughed and laughed…and read through emails for the rest of the morning, while David stood guard at the front door, ready to bark bloody murder at any of those aggressive assholes he’d heard master Henry talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment for the love of cocoa


End file.
